


Out of the Mouths of Padawans

by ReneeoftheStars



Series: Teyla Marin and Gida Tiatkin [9]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:29:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeoftheStars/pseuds/ReneeoftheStars
Summary: Returning from a harrowing mission during the Clone Wars, Gida Tiatkin finds herself unable to justify the deaths she has witnessed. Hurting and angry, the empathic Padawan seeks out her Master, hoping to gain some understanding as to the horror that is war.





	Out of the Mouths of Padawans

Master Teyla was meditating. Again.

But this time, the mediation seemed uneasy. Even though her eyes were closed and she was breathing evenly, the Pantoran's brow was furrowed. Her mouth was held in a small frown that Gida had come to associate with displeasure and stress, and her fingers twitched in her lap. For once, the Jedi Knight’s emotions were unguarded, and Gida felt them as easily as though they were her own; troubled, irked. Sorrowful.

Gida hovered just inside the doorway of her Master’s chamber, hesitant to enter and yet unwilling to leave. She knew Teyla disliked being interrupted during her meditations, but Gida couldn’t put off this conversation any longer. It had been eating away at her since they returned from their most recent mission to Dae Lynoak, where they had been sent to oversee establishment of a Republic base at the capital city. It was supposed to be a simple mission, but everything had gone horribly wrong. So many had died...

Gida steadied herself, planting her feet firmly and drawing a deep breath, opening herself up to her anxiety. She felt herself hold it, inspect it, and then release it as though it were a ball of light. The practiced method eased the static-like disturbance in her mind, but she knew it was only temporary. “Master?”

No response. Gida took a few steps closer.

“Master Teyla?”

Teyla’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused. She blinked several times, as though pulled from a deep sleep. She frowned briefly, cleared her throat, then adjusted herself on her mat. “Padawan,” she greeted, a smile finally finding its way onto her face. Gida felt her Master’s emotions vanish from her awareness; Teyla had become quite practiced at shielding herself. “Come, sit.”

The young Twi’lek obliged, settling herself cross-legged on a mat opposite her Master.

“You seem troubled, Gida.”

“Yes.” She paused. “I don’t know how to start.”

Her master nodded and waited.

Gida wrestled with the words that wanted to be said, trying to force them into polite, factual statements instead of the myriad of raw emotion that was building up in her again. She threw a look at the door to make sure it had shut behind her, hand raising almost unconsciously to fiddle with the silka beads hanging from her decorative conepiece. She thought about the beads – and lightsaber – she had taken from her friend, a Duros named Ilan, snatching them from his lifeless body as she dodged blaster fire and plunged into the city sewers –

“This war is senseless,” she blurted.

Teyla’s eyes widened, but Gida couldn’t stop, now that the words began to tumble out.

“We’re not soldiers. We’re supposed to keep the peace, not bring armies to peaceful worlds that just want to stay out of the war. So many Jedi are dying – Ilan just wanted to _help_ , that’s all he ever wanted, he didn’t deserve to get blasted. We’re dying, and innocent people are dying, and most worlds just want to stay out of it all. What did Sila’s family care if Raxus wants to leave the Republic? Sila…she gave everything to keep me alive, and it wasn’t because I was Republic or a Jedi, it’s just because she was a _good person_ and she –”

Tears spilled down Gida’s face, and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. “Mark and Jolt and the others are just told ‘Oh, go fight against these killing machines and if you die, don’t worry, there’s plenty more of you to throw at those stupid Seppies!’ But the Senate’s not there! They don’t hear the clones screaming, dying, they don’t realize that they’re throwing real people’s _lives_ away, they don’t feel their fear, their desperation. And what’s it all for? What happens when the war’s done? Millions will still be dead, and whoever loses isn’t going to ever be able to forgive or forget, all the problems will still be there, waiting to explode into another war, so what’s the _point_ –”

“Shhhh.” Teyla was at her side, arms around her, and Gida felt the Jedi Knight move the Force around them, soothing, comforting.

Gida felt herself shaking, tears streaming, and she tried to turn away, but Teyla’s embrace held her still. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Master.”

“Do not apologize, Gida.”

Gradually, Gida’s sobs subsided. As Gida drew shuddering breaths and blinked the last of the tears from her eyes, Teyla squeezed her shoulders, then returned to her mat. Keeping her gaze averted, Gida drew her knees to her chest, hiding her burning face. She couldn’t bear to look at her Master. Shame welled in her; shame of having displayed such unseemly emotions, allowing them to overrun her like they had when she was younger; shame at blubbering at her Master like a child; shame that she questioned the purpose of a war whose very conflict was allegiance to the Republic. To question the war was almost treasonous.

“I understand, Padawan. I do,” came Teyla’s voice softly.

Gida risked a glance upward and was startled by how tired the Jedi seemed. Lines ringed her forehead, dark circles emphasized the exhaustion in her eyes. She look so…sad.

Teyla opened her mouth to speak, but paused, seemingly unable to figure out what to say. Instead, she gently opened emotions to her Padawan, toned down so as not to overwhelm her. _Disgust at the political decisions that result in an extension of the war while simultaneously gaining individuals more influence and power. Scorn of the Senate’s preoccupation with numbers and footholds and credits instead of the safety and provisions of the people. Guilt at not foreseeing the destruction on Dae Lynoak. Grief for all those who had died – clones and Jedi and civilians alike. Frustration at the Council’s inability to decide what the Order’s role should be in this war._

_Are we peacekeepers, generals, or revolutionaries? We can only be one._

They sat in silence, steadying themselves with the other’s presence in the Force.

Eventually, Teyla said, “I understand your frustrations, Gida. I have them too. Wars are not as cut and dry as we would like them to be. Facts become muddled. What’s right and wrong comes under scrutiny, or is disregarded entirely. And some find it easier to turn a blind eye to horrible truths and proceed with the knowledge that they only want what’s best. But these are not aspects we can afford to overlook.” She met Gida’s gaze with a sort of grim determination that Gida had noticed more often over the last few years. “We have sworn allegiance to the Republic. As such, we do not simply protect the interests of the broader government and its authority. We also owe our service to the individuals that make up the very base of the Republic.”

“So what is it we’re fighting for? A Republic that’s lost its way?” Gida asked. To her own ears, it sounded like a challenge.

To her surprise, Teyla smiled. “What does anyone fight for? The chance to make things better.”


End file.
